My Father’s tools are ruined (and it’s not my fault!)

My father’s tools are ruined
Extensions of his hands
Crumpling in arthritic decay
Some say he’s rusty
I just think they’re rusted
My father’s tools are ruined
The builders of home
Remodelers of home
Finishers of home
These are the things that said I’ll never die
Now lay like liars lying in the basement flood
Flooded pathways not to be taken barefooted my father warned me as a child
The foundation of our home remains intact
But one can’t help but feel lost
When what was gauranteed for life
Has overshot it’s value in a trial by fire
Which it won
But the fight to save my home
Came at the wetted expense
Of what would have built it anew
My father’s tools are ruined
His home remains unmade
Life time gaurantees don’t mean much
When water kills as much as flame

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